I would be the first to admit that I didn't have all the Southern flair for hosting that I probably should have. I mean, any time Père had people over, it was to discuss taking over the country or how it had fallen apart.
Plus, it wasn't like his guests were really the tea and cookie type people.
But I think Adam was even more socially inept than I was.
"In there," he growled, waiting for Tank to get into the cage first. The gun was still firmly fixed to my head, and yet not a single person or guard blinked twice at me being dragged down here. This was definitely not one of those places that believed in the 'see something, say something' mantra.
Tank looked at me for a second before letting out a low whine. "I told you," I sighed, closing my eyes even as I shook my head. "He won't go anyplace without me. You want him in the cage; you need to put me in there, too."
